


the difference

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 09:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9172222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: Written for the Johnson & Coulson fanworks exachange. Prompt = "Stay with me". Coulson asks Daisy to stay, or viceversa.





	

**one.**

She is not looking for him, not exactly, just walking through the base while a thought creeps into her. Because she hasn’t seen Coulson anywhere today. And she knows he doesn’t have a mission out, and he is not staying on the Z-1.

He’s in the gym, of all places. He’s never in the gym (Daisy is _always_ in the gym, she would know). She almost misses him, because she was going to just walk by, an unfamiliar sight catching her attention from the corner of her eye. She turns around and watches from the doorframe.

Coulson, for the first time since she’s known him, is working out (Daisy is pretty sure he does so regularly, just always away from prying eyes). He’s in gym clothes, even, and working on the punching bag. He’s barely sweating and it looks like he hasn’t been down here that long.

Almost immediately he becomes aware of Daisy’s gaze on him and he stops and turns her way.

Daisy gives him an appreciative but quizzical look.

“New hand,” he says, explaining, flexing his fingers and catching his breath a bit. _Right_. Last mission was… rough on Coulson. Was that why Daisy was wandering the hallways hoping to see him? Make sure he’s okay? Now she wonders. “I’m doing a little recalibration here.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” she says, taking a step back. “I’ll get out of your way.”

“No, please, stay,” he says.

She studies him. True, they’ve been doing stuff together they hadn’t before, specially now that they are both agents, and on the same level - well, color. True equals. But being Coulson’s sparring partner is not something Daisy ever imagined herself doing. Ever.

“You sure?”

“I could use someone holding the bag,” he says.

She nods and gets into position easily, almost automatically, having done this so often for May and Mack. She and Coulson stare at each other for a moment, like he doesn’t know where to begin. It’s awkward, definitely. Daisy feels her cheeks flushing, thinking of the person she was when she joined SHIELD, how she would have reacted if Coulson had asked for her help in the gym.

Coulson seems to take a long time, over-thinking it, and the throws the world’s saddest punch at the bag.

Daisy blinks at him.

She’s seen him on the field. He has two good fists. Is he afraid of damaging the new hand? Is it her, is she distracting him?

He shakes his head.

“That was pretty weak, wasn’t it?”

“A bit,” she agrees, smiling sympathetically. “Not everyone is born with my natural abilities.”

Coulson chuckles. Is it just her or he has been smiling a lot more lately? What’s up with that?

“I’ll tell you something: you did get better marks than me in your Level 1 physical exam.”

“Not sure my marks there count at all, since Ward was my SO and the one doing the evaluation.” She cringes. “I feel like I should get a shower after saying that.”

“I’m sorry,” Coulson tells her, looking guilty for… oh so many things that aren’t his fault at all.

She shrugs. “It’s fine,” she says. “It’s just that it kind of makes you question your merits, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Coulson agrees. “Kind of like finding out you’ve been working for Nazis all your life without knowing.”

There is a nice moment of companionship, even though Daisy’s heart drops a bit when she hears those words, and Coulson’s tone.

“Kind of like that,” she says, and grabs the punching bag again, challenging to do better this time.

 

**two.**

“Do you want me to smooth things over with the Director?”

Daisy wrinkles her nose, giving him a sad look.

“Coulson,” she says, an entire sentence. “You can’t keep doing that, you know.”

He intends to, and looks away for a moment, hoping Daisy can’t see the desperation.

Mace needs to accept Daisy needs some kind of autonomy if the Inhuman community is to trust her - and by extension, SHIELD. He wonders if Daisy often felt this frustrated when he was her boss, if he was as obnoxious as Mace; probably, there’s a couple of memories, of keeping things from Daisy, or trying to protect her in all the wrong ways, that make him feel ashamed today.

Daisy is sitting in his office in the Zephyr 1 right now, and Coulson puts his hand on her shoulder, squeezing as a way of apology and support. Daisy smiles a grateful but awfully tired smile. He admits he is afraid; afraid of Daisy saying this words “this isn’t working out”. More terrifying than any sentimental break-up, and so much more personal. Because it would mean he has failed too - it would mean he has failed her, but also himself.

You don’t want Daisy on your team because you expect her to follow the rules, you want her on your team because she always knows when not to.

Things were going well, at first, until her missions were in direct conflict with SHIELD’s official stances.

Things were going well, Coulson was… happy, maybe. Happier, in any case, and grateful that she was back. 

He’s afraid, he admits.

It’s selfish, he knows.

He’s afraid of losing her again.

“I want you to stay,” he says casually, his fingers lingering over the curve of her shoulder and then slipping away. “But I can’t just ask you.”

She tilts her head. 

“I’m pretty sure that qualifies as asking,” she points out.

Coulson reply, doesn’t defend himself.

 

**three.**

“Stay,” he says, when they are already on the hangar, when he has already procured a Quinjet for her, helped her fake a couple of mission assignments so no one could suspect anything for days, to give her a head start (she didn’t have a head start last time). No one knows she’s leaving - not even Mack (Elena knows, Elena left even before Daisy).

“I can’t,” she tells him.

Coulson gives her a little smile. “I know. I’m sorry,” he says. “I won’t ask again, I promise.”

They don’t say anything else that time. But when Coulson walks her inside the Quinjet Daisy grabs his hand, and for a moment she feels like dragging him with her, taking him with her, but her future is so uncertain and he would always be in danger and he still believes in SHIELD and anyway he asked her to stay, he said nothing about running away with her. 

Last time she walked away from him she didn’t even give him the chance to say goodbye (or was it that she didn’t give herself the chance to say goodbye?).

Last time she was sure she’d never see him again.

She lets go of his hand.

 

**four.**

When he opens the door and lets her in Daisy is cleaning a red stain off her neck.

“No one’s followed me,” she says first and Coulson’s heart aches at the idea she might think he cares.

“Come in.”

He knew about the attack from SHIELD feeds - he hates still being in SHIELD, but he knows he can be valuable someday - of course he knows everything about what happened. She doesn’t have to explain why she needs a place to hide, and he gets the feeling she is relieved not to have to talk about it.

“Anything I can do to help relocate the rest?” he asks.

Daisy shakes her head. “Unless you have a couple of thousand dollars lying around,” she tells him. He doesn’t, obviously. “And from what I’ve heard you’ve been demoted. Again.”

“I have a desk job now,” he replies. They don’t let him handle sensitive paperwork, of course.

Daisy snorts. And then makes a pained sound, as if she had moved a muscle she shouldn’t have.

“Are you okay?” Coulson asks.

“Yeah, just…” she waves him away and walks into the kitchen. She drops with a thud on one of the chairs. “Give me a moment.”

"Take all the time you need," he says, even though he hopes she knows by now, that she can always come here, that she can always come to him.

“Just let me grab a shower, wash all this blood… and I’ll be on my way.”

Coulson walks up to her, behind her, and wraps one hand around the nape of her neck, touching her hair gently. He wonders if she needs first aid, if she would let him peel the suit off her and check for bruises. He presses his thumb against the skin of her neck.

“Or…” he says in a small voice. “You could stay.”

He makes his point by softly massaging the back of her neck. She makes a pleased noise, eyes closed, like nobody touches her like that anymore. Whenever they meet these days, Coulson wonders about that, about how there seems to be little room for tenderness in her life. She is Quake, she is a leader, and she and her people are _at war_. This is nothing but a respite - if only he could make her get some proper rest.

“I could cook you some warm food and you could sleep in a real bed...” he goes on.

“That’d be nice,” Daisy says in a soft, dreamy voice. Coulson hadn’t imagined it’d be this easy. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He can’t help himself, he drops the lightest of kisses on top of her head. “I’ll go run the bath.”

Daisy clicks her tongue. “Even you said you wouldn’t ask me again…”

She doesn’t sound disappointed, though.

“This is different,” he tells her, his heart in his throat.

She lets a moment pass.

“Yeah. It is.”

 

**five.**

She takes a shower after the morning workout and brings back a cup of coffee. 

The base is pretty deserted at this hour; it’s pretty deserted at any hour just yet, most of the agents belonging to the old regime are gone. They are building everything back from scratch. They are in no hurry, though.

Daisy, herself, is in no hurry these days. She thinks it’s time for her to take a breather.

So she goes at a slower pace. The workout this morning is just to keep fit, not punch things like she had a score to settle. She takes her time in the shower. She takes her time making the coffee (uses the good machine in the garage).

When she comes back to her bunk, mug in hand, Coulson is still fast asleep, breathing deeply and evenly, filling the room with a nice, constant noise of contentment.

Daisy knows she should probably wake him up, or the coffee will go cold. She doesn’t have the heart to. He doesn’t get nearly enough sleep - neither of them do. She might be the director, but he is the one picking up the slack more often than, doing all the unpleasant diplomacy and a good chunk of the paperwork. Daisy’s right hand. Well, more than that, he’s other parts, too, definitely. She should wake him up, just to tell him that joke.

Experimentally she brushes one fingertip against Coulson’s nose. All that it does is making the nose wrinkle for a moment, while its owner keeps sleeping.

Daisy chuckles without a sound. Without thinking - she is doing the Very Important Task of watching her lover sleep here; she likes that, “lover”, because she’s done with boyfriends - she starts drinking the coffee, Coulson’s coffee, from Coulson’s mug. His favorite mug - well, a replacement, since original grumpy cat mug got destroyed and it was kind of Daisy’s fault, so she ended up buying another one.

She sits on the bed right next to him, Coulson’s cheek pressed against her ankle, yet he still won’t wake up.

It’s fine.

Daisy will stay with him.

He doesn’t even have to ask anymore.


End file.
